Anatomy of a Relationship
by TheGirlWhoRemembers
Summary: The obvious ones. The inevitable couple. The perfect match. Wen, Olivia, why they came to be Wen and Olivia, and what defines their relationship.


AN: This is set in the same universe, with the same characterizations and events as _Are They or Aren't They?, _but no knowledge of that story is required to understand this one.

This is likely to be the last thing I'll ever post regarding _Lemonade Mouth, _I actually wrote this a few months ago. I can't see myself writing any more. (Whether that is good or bad news would depend on you. It may be a relief to some...) I am trying to focus on my _Harry Potter _stuff, particularly on writing something set between the Final Battle and the Epilogue of _Deathly Hallows. __  
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They were the obvious ones.

To everyone.

(Well, not to Charlie, but to everyone else.)

The inevitable couple.

The perfect match.

Or, at least, as close to perfect as there could be.

Wen and Olivia.

Both gentle, nice, friendly people with a penchant for music, people who'd do near anything for their friends.

Both a little shy when it came to admitting their feelings.

Even their differences complimented each other's.

He was more relaxed, a joker, optimistic, while she was shy, tense and anxious.

He'd calm her down, comfort her, make her laugh, while she helped him to see the more serious side of things.

They helped each other to achieve what they never could have done alone.

He helped to give her confidence. She'd never, ever, have been able to sing in front of a crowd, any crowd, without him.

In fact, she'd never even have joined the band without him.

She helped him to gain perspective, appreciate what he had. He'd never have built his eventual close relationship with Sydney without her.

In fact, he'd probably still hate her if she hadn't opened his eyes.

She kept his feet on the ground, he taught her to stand tall and dream.

They were best friends, really, and they picked up each other's slack.

She was strong, very strong, more so than anyone else the band ever knew, but sometimes, she couldn't go on. In times like those, he'd give her a hand, lend her some of his own strength, and help her to find her feet again.

He usually appreciated what he had, and forgave easily, but sometimes, he lost sight of the big picture, and just saw red. In times like those, she'd gently remind him, tell him how lucky he was, and guide him to the right actions.

They made each other better, really.

They were _good _for each other.

And it was painfully obvious, for a very, very long time.

They danced around their obviously mutual feelings for months.

The line between friends and more-than-friends grew increasingly more blurred.

The gift of a kitten, many dances together at his father's wedding, walking to school together, meeting each other's families, even going to see a movie together...

It got so tiresome that many a plot to get them together was hatched.

But eventually, The Music Scene brought forth the inevitable.

They finally admitted it, and finally acknowledged that they were more than friends.

Although, it took a long time for it to become clear that they were, in fact, more than friends.

Their relationship continued much the way it did before, inching slowly towards the common definition of a _romantic_ relationship.

Shy hand-holding, hugs goodnight, kisses on the cheek...

Well, safe to say, it was a long time before there were any awkward moments involving the band walking in during a _private _moment, or Stella yelled at them to get a room.

And it was probably due to the slow-developing physical aspect of their relationship that they earned a reputation as the innocent sweetheart couple.

But even then, from the outset, or even from before, their relationship carried a sense of finality, of permanence, or, as Mo called it, _forever._

Theirs was a relationship characterized by afternoons spent lying beside one another on the grass, hands never drifting more than inches apart, finding shapes in the clouds.

Or by hours spent playing with her kitten, Daisy, whom Mo referred to as their child.

Or by Friday afternoons spent baking cookies or cupcakes or other sweet treats with Georgie.

Or by weekends spent writing songs together in one of their backyards, sipping lemonade, and occasionally bursting into spontaneous laughter.

Or by the way he rubbed her back, and held her hand, and whispered words that no one else heard into her ear before each and every show.

Or by the way she squeezed his hand just before she went on stage, each and every time.

Or maybe just by the way their eyes would meet, and they'd both smile, in little moment of peace, happiness and simple _togetherness_.


End file.
